Bad news on the doorstep
by NancyMay
Summary: The title is inspired by the line in America Pie, and it got me to thinking what bad news could turn up on the doorstep, well, guess who turns up?
1. Chapter 1

Jean had always said Jack would never come back to Ballarat. The last time he'd shown up he'd been accused of murder and had got in with some low-life's. His pregnant girlfriend had been involved in shoot out and had lost his baby. He'd left, left his mother in tears and in the arms of her employer, Dr Lucien Blake. But she'd moved on, from that first embrace in the sunroom hers and Lucien's lives had turned a corner and after turmoil and treachery they were now man and wife. She was happier than she had been for years, she had a loving husband, and adorable granddaughter, and although she missed Jack she didn't dwell on it.

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But come back he did. There he stood on the doorstep, hesitant, untidy, looking scared.

Jean took a sharp intake of breath, 'Jack.' she gasped.

'Hullo, mum,' Jack managed a lopsided grin, but it was a bit half-hearted, he looked over his shoulder, 'can I come in?'

She stepped to one side, thinking this was not a good idea, he was running from someone or something. What had he done this time?

'Come into the kitchen, I'll make you some tea. Are you hungry? When did you last eat?'

'I'm not stopping, mum, your husband wouldn't like it.' He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

'Why do you hate him so?' she asked, softly, sadly.

'Why do you think? He accused me of murder!' He snapped back.

Jean sat down opposite him, 'He was just doing his job, and you did nothing to dissuade him or the police, did you?' She held out her hands to him, across the table, 'Jack, what's wrong?'

'You don't need to know.' He growled. 'I just need some money, enough to get out of Victoria at least.'

'What have you done?' She was insistent now, she certainly wasn't going to hand over money just so he could disappear, run away from whatever or whoever it was that was chasing him.

'I said, you don't need to know!' He stood up and shouted at her and he knew that shouting at his mother never got the reaction he wanted.

'You are still my son!' She stood in front of him, he was so tall, she had forgotten that, preferring to think of him as the little tearaway from her memories of happier times with her sons. Her eyes glistened with tears but Jack had long since lost any compassion he had for anyone, not even his mother.

'Just give me some money, you must be able to afford it, he makes enough!' Jack was angry now, he'd thought he'd be able to walk over his mother, forgetting how strong she was, thinking marriage would have made her soft.

'No! Lucien works hard for his money,' she informed him, 'maybe you should try working. I didn't bring you up to scrounge off others.' She was angry, she'd tried so hard with her sons and even though they were both so different in temperament she had hoped they'd both grow up to be responsible people. But somehow she'd failed with Jack. Lucien had always said Jack was welcome there, but she had always known that wouldn't happen. Even now, he wouldn't stay.

'Oh, so you're comfortable, it doesn't matter about the rest of us!' Jack yelled in her face, towering over her he was rather intimidating, but she would not back down, 'All you have to do is cook his meals and warm his bed!'

Jean was aghast, 'How dare you talk to me like that!'

Jack raised his hand to slap her but his wrist was caught in a vice like grip as he was spun round to face Dr Blake, and feel his right fist connect with his chin and he fell to the floor. He was still conscious.

'How dare you raise your hand to your mother!' Lucien was furious, 'Who the hell do you think you are?' As he went to drag the young man to his feet Jean shouted,

'Lucien! No!'

Lucien held his hand out to keep her away and continued to drag Jack up and push him into the armchair in the living room. He pulled Jean to him,

'Are you alright?' His eyes were full of concern for her.

'Yes,' she choked, she could not believe her son was about to hit her. Tears stung her eyes, where, oh where had she gone wrong? She felt, and was grateful for, Lucien's strong arms around her.

'Right, young man,' Lucien stood in front of the shaken Jack, 'What do you think you are doing? You show up here and threaten your mother, who has never thought anything bad about you. She always thinks she can save you, but, frankly you appear to be beyond redemption. So, come on, now is the time to speak before I throw you out, with or without her permission!'

Jack stared at this man, effectively his step-father, and was dumfounded.

'Err...' but before he could speak there was a loud, angry knock at the front door.

'Beazley! Get out here and face me!' A very angry man called through, 'you bastard!'

Jean stepped forward but was held back by her husband.

'No, Jean,' Lucien held her shoulders, 'I'll answer it.' The looking at Jack, 'Don't you dare move from that spot!'

Lucien opened the door to a man about his age, a farmer, by the look of him, carrying a shotgun! He held his hands up in submission.

'I believe you have an issue with my step-son?' He asked, mildly.

'Jack Beazley is your step-son?' The farmer queried.

'Well, I married his mother, so, yes I suppose that makes me his step-father.' Lucien said impassively.

'That little bastard has ruined my daughter, and now he won't marry her.' The man was so disappointed in both of them, his daughter and Jack. Lucien blamed it on the lack of education either in school or that fact that mothers (and fathers) didn't explain to their offspring the facts of life. OK Jack's father had died before he could have 'that talk' with his son but... He remembered his father had struggled, but as a doctor at least he had the courage to brooch the subject.

Lucien took a step forward and held out his hand for the shotgun. 'Come inside, and let's talk. You, me, Jack and his mother.' Lucien was gentle, after all he had a daughter and although she was married, with a child, could well understand if that had happened to Li.

The man's shoulders drooped. He was defeated, Lucien thought, and he felt for him.

Jean had heard everything. She couldn't believe Jack hadn't learnt his lesson from the last time. Twice he had played with fire and twice he had got burnt. Now there was a chance she was going to have a second grandchild that she wasn't sure was wanted. She glared at her son.

'Jack,' she whispered, but he just shrugged his shoulders making her even more angry, 'is that why you wanted to run away?' He looked down. 'What on earth is wrong with you? Running away, I am so disappointed in you.'

'Disappointed,' he muttered, 'is that all?'

'What do you want me to say? I don't hate you, I just don't like that you think you can just run away when things don't go your way. I love you, Jack, you are my son, but I don't like what you do.'

Lucien came into the living room followed by the big, burly farmer, but without the shotgun.

'Jean,' he indicated the man, 'this is Mr Wilson. His daughter, Ruth, is expecting Jack's baby.'

'Mr Wilson,' Jean employed a sweet smile and held out her hand. What could she say?

'Mrs ?' Lucien hadn't introduced himself.

'Blake,' she smiled again, 'this is my husband, Dr Blake.'

He nodded to the doctor, he'd heard of him but used Dr King in Ballarat.

'Your son...,' he started, but she stopped him.

'I know, I heard.' She looked almost stern, 'but, it takes two to make a baby and although Jack should have know better, your daughter did let him...'

'She's fifteen!' Mr Wilson yelled, 'What would she know?'

'Jack!' Jean was furious, 'What in God's name did you think you were doing?!' She put her head in her hands.

Jack just sat there in sullen silence, he'd blown it this time.

'What do you want to do, Mr Wilson?' asked Lucien, he was not sure a shotgun wedding was the answer, it wouldn't last and Ruth would end up bringing up the child alone, or being forced to have it adopted.

'He should marry her.' Mr Wilson stated with certainty.

'What does Ruth want?' Jean asked, the girl's needs were important, too.

'It's not up to her.'

Men! thought Jean, 'Actually, I think it is. She has to live with it as does Jack, so what does she want? Have you asked her?'

'No,' he snapped, 'either they marry or she puts the baby up for adoption.'

'Mum,' Jack started to speak, 'It was a fling, I didn't know it would happen the first time.'

Jean spun round and slapped her son, hard across the face. 'You didn't think it would happen the first time? How many times do you think it takes?! A fling with a fifteen year old? You are not a child, Jack, you _should_ think!'

Jack was stunned, she had never struck him before, and although he could see she regretted it, for once he knew he deserved it.

'Do you intend to do the right thing, Jack?' asked Lucien, shocked at his wife's response, but impressed all the same.

'I don't want to marry her,' he admitted, 'I couldn't provide for her and a child, I have no work.'

Jean just looked at the floor and shook her head. Lucien's heart broke for her.

'Does Ruth want the child?' She asked Mr Wilson, softly.

'She refuses to have it adopted,' he grunted, 'I won't have the little bastard in the house.'

Jean motioned to Lucien that she would like to talk in private. They moved to the study.

'Lucien,' she touched his arm, 'I know what Jack had done is wrong, I am so very disappointed in him, and I in no way condone his actions, but we need to do something about the baby. '

'I'm listening,' but he thought he knew what she was going to suggest.

'How would you feel...'

'If we adopted it?'

'Lucien!' she was aghast at his perception, 'would you mind? I mean ...'

'Jack is not responsible enough to care for a child, Ruth is too young and would be sent away to one of the mother and baby units, her father doesn't want anything to do with the baby, so, yes why not?' He pulled her close, loving her thoughtfulness. The idea of bringing up her grandchild as her own was so unselfish, and so right. They walked out into the living room.

'When is the baby due?' Jean asked, matter-of-factly.

'Err... six months I think, she isn't showing yet.' Mr Wilson grunted, that was all he got out of Ruth. He only knew she was expecting because she was suffering from morning sickness and his wife had had to tell him what was wrong with their daughter.

'I have discussed this with my husband and we are prepared to adopt the child and bring it up as our own.' Jean was clear in her mind this was the right thing and the only thing that could be done.

'Why would you do that? You don't know us.' He was shocked at her suggestion. He wanted the right thing to be done by his daughter.

'Well, the baby is my grandchild, my son is not capable of providing for a child or supporting a wife at this time (or any time if this is anything to go by, she thought) and I won't see any member of my family in an orphanage. We can provide for a child, it will be loved and cared for.' Jean stood looking at Mr Wilson with her hands on her hips, almost, Lucien thought, daring him to say no.

'Won't people find out?' He asked, his daughter's name would be dragged through the mud.

'Probably, gossip gets round Ballarat like a plague.' Jean agreed, 'I know, I've had to suffer it.'

'We could arrange for her to give birth in a private clinic, no-one would need to know where the baby came from.' Lucien stepped in, he didn't want to see the girl ruined, but he knew what he'd like to do to Jack! And without an anaesthetic!

'Who's going to pay for that, I can't afford a private clinic?' Mr Wilson snapped.

'I only suggested it because I know one, in Melbourne, and I will pay for it.' Lucien was adamant, if he and Jean were going to give this baby a home it would get the best care he could afford. 'She will have to go there at about seven months, Jean will accompany her, and return with your daughter and the baby.'

'I'll not have her in the house when she starts to show!' Mr Wilson was sure that Ruth would be seen and be talked about.

'As soon as she starts to show she can come here,' Jean offered, 'she can stay until we take her to Melbourne.' Honestly, did this man want the problem sorted or did he just want to put shotgun pellets through her son. 'We have offered to take in the child, pay your daughter's medical bills and now shelter her until she goes to have the baby. I think we have been generous enough to you. I suggest you go and talk it through with your wife and Ruth' She was beginning to get angry now.

'And what about him?' he gestured angrily at Jack, sitting in the armchair watching his problem being swept away by his mother and Lucien.

'We'll deal with him,' Jean said tersely, and Jack then realised he wasn't going to get off scot free.

Lucien escorted the irate father to the door while Jean stood in front of Jack, looking down at him, her arms folded with a look on her face that even Lucien would run from. She was absolutely furious with him and he was going to find out just how mad she was over the next few days, because she was not going to let him walk out of the house thinking he had got away with it.

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Jean gave him a meal, he was not to sit down with them, and sent him to her old room. She knew she was treating him like a child, but he acted like one and at the moment it was the only way she could deal with him. She needed to talk to Lucien about him, what they were going to do with him. She was afraid he would go on and produce a string of illegitimate grandchildren, expecting her to take care of them.

Charlie came in as usual to a frosty atmosphere, he thought Lucien had upset Jean but noticed how close they were, so something else had happened. He wanted to ask but, on balance, thought it would be better if he waited for them to volunteer any information. They were speaking in low voices when he went into the kitchen, and he thought he'd be better off out of the way, when Jean saw him.

'No, Charlie,' she saw him head to the stairs. 'Please, come in.'

'I don't want to intrude,' he hesitated.

'Actually, Charlie,' Lucien said, 'we'd like your insight.'

The sat round the kitchen table, Jean and Lucien had decided that Charlie may be able to help in some way, and he lived there, so should be apprised of the situation.

'My son, Jack, has turned up, in trouble, again.' Jean found it painful to admit, but she took a deep breath and told him what had happened that afternoon. They told him they were sure what they wanted to do as regards the baby but did not know quite what to do with Jack. Jean admitted, tearfully, that she didn't want him living there for long.

'You could encourage him to enlist in the army, the discipline might do him good.' By 'encourage' Charlie meant get the papers, fill them out and make him sign on the dotted line.

'I don't think the army deserve that,' Lucien said, trying to lighten the situation, 'I think some hard physical work would do him good. Something to make him too tired to keep him from preying on the local girls.'

'How about building work?' Charlie suggested, 'It's hard graft and he could get a room in a boarding house, if you want him out of the house. Or farming. Some farms have bunkhouses don't they?'

'I'd like...' Jean took a very deep breath, and in a shaky voice said, 'I'd like him out of Ballarat, preferably in another state.' Tears trickled down her face.

Lucien looked at her in shock, she leant on his shoulder, 'I can't take him being here, not until he has sorted himself out. I love him, Lucien, I'll always love him, he's my son, but I just don't like him.'

Lucien held her very tight, he understood, at least he thought he did, a mother's love is unconditional, but it does not override common decency. And Jack had overridden common decency.

'Leave it with me,' Charlie said, 'I'll make some calls in the morning.'

'Who to?'

'The forces round the country always know of work going, sometimes they advise young men who have transgressed to go to farms or building sites where they know labourers are needed, rather than locking them up It gives them a second chance. I'll see if anyone knows of anything going, out of state.' He stretched over the table and squeezed Jean's hand.

'Thank you,' Jean smiled, sadly, knowing she was effectively banning her son from her home. Even though Lucien had said, oh so long ago, it was her home so therefore it was also his home.

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Two days came and went. Jean gave Jack gardening work to do. She found furniture that needed moving and any heavy work in the house. He was fed but she insisted he did his own laundry. As he had turned up in the clothes he stood up in she bought him some new underwear, three shirts and a spare pair of trousers, but told him she expected him to pay for them when he was working. Jack knew he couldn't do anything but obey his mother, she would turn him out on the street if he didn't. The little boy had returned, compliant and obedient, otherwise he would feel those shotgun pellets in his backside.

Jean hated it. She hated treating her grown son as a naughty child, but that was what he was, or that was what he acted like.

Lucien, for the most part, ignored him. He was more concerned about the effect it was having on his wife. She cried at night, in his arms, constantly asking where she had gone wrong. All Lucien could do was hold her, kiss her and tell her she had been a wonderful mother, that she hadn't done anything wrong, it wasn't her fault.

On the third day, Mr Wilson phoned to say he like to bring his daughter over to see her baby's grandmother. Jean was pleased to have a, minor, distraction, and said she'd be delighted. They arrived, promptly at two. Ruth was a pretty girl, Jean noticed, classic looks and she could see why Jack had been attracted to her, but it was no reason to go as far as he did. She escorted them into the kitchen, she had instructed Jack to stay out of sight, in his bedroom.

Ruth looked apologetic. Her father had been angry, disappointed and furious in turn. She told him she didn't know what the boy was doing, only that he was nice and gentle, and very good looking. She admitted she knew he shouldn't touch her 'there', but he told her it was alright, nothing would happen.

When Jean heard this she blushed, mainly with anger at her boy's manipulation of a naive girl. How deceitful of him, she would have further words with him later!

She suggested Mr Wilson sit in the garden while she got acquainted with Ruth.

Alone with the girl she started to speak, 'Ruth,' she said softly, the girl smiled, she was quite pretty, with auburn hair and green eyes, a touch of the Irish, Jean thought, 'I'm sorry for what Jack did, he should not have led you on.'

'Mrs Beazley,' Ruth's voice was musical, light, 'Jack was kind to me. Dad, well, he's very protective, I'm his only child, and he keeps me tied to the house. I know what Jack did was wrong, now, but, honestly, for once I felt important.'

Jean studied the girl. Another girl browbeaten by her father. Her own father had loved her, danced with her, sang with her and told her she was beautiful. She didn't have to find a boy to make her feel important until she was ready. How sad. If the child was a girl she would make sure that Lucien would love the baby as he never had the chance to do with Li. And show her she was important.

'Has your father told you what we have suggested? What we would like to do?' Jean asked.

'Yes,' Ruth smiled more openly, now, 'And I think it's so lovely of you. There is one thing I would like to know, though...' she inhaled, deeply, 'can I see the baby, not just when it's born, but as it grow up?'

Jean was surprised, and at the same time delighted, Ruth wanted the baby but knew she couldn't bring it up.

'Well, I don't suppose your father will be too pleased about that,' Jean had to admit, 'but Dr Blake and I don't intend to move so, maybe you could pop by occasionally. And I do shop in town...But, Ruth, you do realise that you give up all rights to your child once we have adopted it, don't you?' Jean smiled conspiratorially. She knew she shouldn't but somehow, if she was Ruth...

Ruth just nodded, that didn't matter, at least she would see it grow.

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Oh dear, looks like I'll have to write another chapter. I do know where I want this to go, but it's getting a bit long for a 'one shot'. And I wasn't going to do a 'Jack' story, but it kept nagging at the back of my mind.


	2. New responsibilities

Two months later...

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Ruth had settled in well to the Blake household. Being, what could be described as, a bonny lass, she had not started to show until her fifth month, so that was when her father finally kicked her out. Still seething from Jack's behaviour towards his daughter, he had not even driven Ruth over, Lucien had had to go and collect her.

Jean had given her, her old room, upstairs. Which the girl had described as lovely, she liked the pink walls, she said.

Having Ruth around made Jean think of Mattie, and how she missed her. She'd written to Mattie and told her what was going on and what she and Lucien had decided to do. Mattie had written back and said she thought Jean was a saint and that Jack didn't deserve her help. When she'd met Jack he'd tried it on with her, and she found him conceited. Sure, he was good looking, but good looks wouldn't put food on the table.

Jack had been shipped out to a farm in Queensland. Charlie's contacts there had come good, and found a place miles from anywhere, where he would be worked hard, for a farmhand's wages, half of which he was to send back to his mother to pay for the clothes she had bought him. When that debt had been paid he was still to send money back to pay for Ruth's keep and for something towards the baby's first year. When Lucien had suggested this at first she had not wanted it.

'Jean, he needs to face up to his responsibilities. If he pays towards the baby's first year he will be paying towards the equipment we don't have.' He'd reasoned.

'But Lucien,' she implored, 'we can afford a bassinet and baby clothes.'

'I know, but he needs to feel what it means, financially, to bring a child into the world, at least in part. It might make him think before spreading too many more wild oats.' Lucien had touched her cheek, a move she still found so endearing. He was right, of course. But at the same time it was a reminder that she had to pick up the mess her son had made.

Ruth turned sixteen while she was at the Blake's. They were kind enough to make something of the day for her, with a little gift, just a keepsake, Jean had said, of a small, silver locket. Ruth was touched and burst into tears on Jean's shoulder, telling her that she was so sorry for the trouble she had brought, they were the nicest people she could have met.

Jean smiled. If Jack had to go and get a girl pregnant and then abscond, at least it wasn't some scheming 'lady of the night'. But then she reasoned those women would probably know how to prevent a pregnancy.

She smiled as she remembered the stern talking to Lucien had given him, about, as he put it, the birds and the bees. Jack had come out of the study looking incredibly embarrassed, that this man, who wasn't even his father had had to spell out to him, a grown man, that there was never a safe 'time' The only sure way to prevent getting any future girlfriend pregnant was, in Lucien's words, 'To keep it in your trousers!' That had made Jean laugh out loud, then go red with embarrassment when she thought about what Lucien had actually said!

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Lucien drove Jean and Ruth to Melbourne, to a small private clinic, run by an old friend. The clinic provided care for mothers married or not, who wanted to give birth discreetly. Unwanted babies, or those who were to be adopted for whatever reason, were legally given over to the adoptive parents. There was no way Jean could say she had given birth, she was too slim to hide a pregnancy. Ruth had said it might be easier if she stayed out of sight during surgery hours, for all of them and so nobody knew she was there. For Jean and Lucien to adopt a child would not be seen as too much of a surprise. Most people in Ballarat knew she had grown up boys and would just assume she and Lucien wanted to complete their union with a child and Jean was too old to fall pregnant again.

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As the birth grew closer Ruth began to worry about what would happen. Jean knew what it was like to have your first baby, not knowing what actually happened, so she told her as gently as possible, that it would hurt, and how the baby would be born. Ruth was understandably terrified but Jean promised to be by her side.

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Ruth screamed as the contractions took hold. Jean wasn't wrong when she said it hurt. She squeezed Jean's hand so tightly Jean thought she'd never have feeling in it again!

'Try to put all your effort in pushing,' the midwife said, 'When you feel a contraction I want you to push as hard as you can.'

Ruth's labour was long and painful, several times she said she wanted it to stop, she couldn't do it. Jean just soothed her, placing cool cloths on her head, talking to her all the time.

'One more push, and your baby will be born.' The midwife tried to be encouraging. This was a big baby, no wonder the poor girl was struggling.

Suddenly it happened, a squealing baby was in the midwife's hands. Red of face and red of hair, the little girl was furious at having been disturbed!

Ruth heaved a sigh of relief and decided she was never doing that again. As she told Jean she wasn't having anymore babies, Jean just laughed.

'You forget,' she kissed the girl's damp forehead, 'honestly. Otherwise I wouldn't have had two.'

The midwife handed the baby to Jean, 'Yours, I believe Mrs Blake. She weighs eight pounds.'

'Good Lord!' exclaimed Jean, 'my boys were only six and a half pounds each.'

'Yes but, Mrs Blake, one can't expect an elephant from a mouse.' The midwife smiled. Jean was so slight, anything bigger would have been trouble.

'Can I see her?' Ruth whispered. Mrs Blake had always said she would not keep the baby from her completely, and just to see her this once...

Jean held the baby close to her birth mother so she could touch her cheek.

Ruth was wheeled away to be made comfortable and Jean was left, literally holding the baby. With that red hair she could pass for Lucien's daughter, she thought. She sighed, she wished she had found Lucien when she was young enough to give him a child of their own, but she was forty six now and it wasn't going to happen. It would have done already if it was; after all they had thrown caution to the wind even before they married.

She gazed at this bundle. Such glorious copper coloured hair and lovely curls, she hoped that it could continue to grow like that.

'Have you thought of a name?' A midwife disturbed her reverie.

'Well, no, I haven't, but...' That hair was the colour of autumn leaves, 'Autumn, we'll call her Autumn. Just look at that hair.' And Jean smiled broadly.

'Unusual, but rather fitting,' the midwife agreed. 'I've phoned your husband, he said he's on his way.'

Jean laughed, 'Thank you, I hope he drives carefully.' She missed him so much, although he'd managed to visit often, she missed him being there all the time.

'Ruth has been made comfortable, do you want to take Autumn to her?'

'Yes, we have an agreement,' Jean nodded, 'I won't keep the baby away from her while she is here.'

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Jean looked down at Ruth in the bed, she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

'Get some sleep,' Jean advised, 'You've done enough for today.' She kissed the top of her head and watched Ruth's eyes close.

She took the baby to her room where a clean, warm bassinet awaited her daughter. Everything had been provided for her, bottles and formula, nappies and nightdresses. She'd never asked Lucien how he knew about this place, but she knew in her heart it wasn't because he had used the facilities himself. He seemed very much at ease with the staff, particularly the doctor who ran the place. She had to be 'brave' and ask him.

Lucien arrived, breathless, about three hours later. He'd taken the train, not trusting himself to drive sensibly and he didn't want to leave Jean a widow with a baby to look after. He had, apart from his suitcase, two bouquets of flowers, one for his darling wife and one for Ruth; after all she had done all the hard work!

He grinned like a Cheshire Cat when he saw Jean, totally relaxed in a chair in her room, cradling a baby, his daughter. Ok so she was adopted, but there was part of Jean in her because she was her grandmother. He hoped it was more of Jean than Jack, but they would teach her the right ways to have a good life.

Jean looked up and smiled. She motioned him over with her head and he went swiftly over to look, and touch ever so gently. He raised his eyebrows when he saw the colour of her hair.

'Goodness, she's a real red head, isn't she?' He gasped. 'What are we going to call her?'

'Autumn,' Jean replied, definitely, 'her hair is the colour of autumn leaves, don't you think?'

'Perfect,' he breathed, 'absolutely perfect.' He leant over and kissed his wife, at first gently, then more deeply.

'Would you like to hold her?' Jean whispered, offering up the babe.

He held out his arms and took the child, close to his chest, he breathed in the scent of baby, and kissed the copper curls.

'She's a good weight.' He remarked.

'Lucien!' Jean admonished, 'a gentleman never comments on a lady's weight.'

They both laughed, 'She's eight pounds.' Jean informed him.

'That's what I was,' he told her. 'Dad said I was a bouncer!'

'I feel a complete wimp,' she said, 'mine were only six and a half pounds.'

'Ah well, Jean...'

'I know,' she interrupted, 'you can't expect an elephant from a mouse!'

'Pardon?'

'That's what the midwife said,' Jean giggled.

'How's Ruth?' Lucien changed the subject.

'Tired, it was long and painful for her,' Jean offered, 'she said she's not doing it again!'

Lucien smiled. He could never, in his wildest dreams, know what pain was involved in childbirth.

Autumn stirred in his arms and started to whimper.

Jean held out her arms, 'She's hungry,' taking the baby she moved over to the unit where a bottle was waiting in a jug of warm water, and proceeded to make herself comfortable and feed her daughter.

Lucien watched her with renewed respect. She really just did whatever needed doing, and he could see how much she loved the baby, already. He said he'd like to go and see Ruth, and she agreed. Watching a mother feed a baby by bottle was a bit like watching paint dry, she thought, and he'd have plenty of chances to do his bit. He'd be changing nappies before the week was out. If she had her way; he'd be taking his turn with the night feeds too!

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Lucien consulted with the medical staff as to how Ruth was. They were satisfied she had come through it well, and would recover quickly, she was young and strong. They also said how much she had helped some other girls who had been caught out. There were three of them, but by far the most pragmatic was Ruth. In fact, they wondered if she would be looking for work, she was sixteen, after all.

'Well, I expect so,' Lucien admitted, though he hadn't thought about it. He knew she had left school so she should be looking for work. 'Why?'

'Well,' a familiar voice behind him, Lucien turned, the doctor who ran the clinic.

'Hello, Richard,' Lucien greeted his old school friend. 'How are you?'

'Well, thank you, and you?' The doctor answered.

'Grand.' Lucien smiled.

'Ruth is a very empathetic girl and has kept the girls occupied and relaxed.' Richard informed him, 'I think I could find a role for her here. She has been through it, caught out, bewitched by a good looking boy, she could help these girls come to terms with their...indiscretions.'

'A kind of social worker?' Lucien guessed.

'Yes, I suppose you could call it that.' Richard agreed. 'We could also train her to support them through the birth. She would have to train as a nurse to become a midwife, but if she wanted to we would support her through that.'

'Well, I suggest you put that to Ruth.' Lucien acknowledged the idea was a good one, she would be secure and away from the gossip of Ballarat and the displeasure of her father. 'By the way,' Lucien changed the subject, 'My wife, I think, is curious as to how I know about the clinic. She hasn't said as much but I know my Jean.'

'Don't suppose she wants a job?' Richard's eyes twinkled, Jean had made herself very useful during her stay with Ruth.

'No chance!' Lucien laughed, 'I couldn't do without her.'

'Let's go and put her out of her misery, then,' Richard clapped his friend on the back and led him back to Jean's room.

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'Jean,' Lucien spoke softly as he walked into the room, in case he woke Autumn. 'This is Richard Jenkins. He runs this clinic, as you know, but I think you want to know how I know him and his work.'

'Well, I did wonder.' Jean smiled.

'Our fathers were friends. They served together during the first 'unpleasantness'. The one thing they noticed was the awful treatment of 'fallen' women. Women and girls who had given themselves to soldiers, got themselves in the family way and then been shunned by family, cast out on the streets.' Richard explained. 'My dad suggested that a special place for these women would be a way to help them. They could offer help with the birth and help to have the illegitimate babies adopted. This has grown into a facility for women who want to give birth privately, married or not, and either have their baby adopted or to go on to a happy family life. Giving birth in hospital..

'...is very frightening.' interrupted Jean, 'especially when it's your first. Your staff are so friendly, so gentle and accepting. It has been an eye opening experience, and maybe I won't be so judgemental in the future.'

Richard smiled, Lucien had chosen a very wise woman to be his wife. He left them to talk about Ruth. Even though she wasn't their daughter they seemed to have her best interests at heart.

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'So what do you think?' Lucien asked Jean when he told her what Richard had suggested.

'It's up to Ruth, but I think she would like the chance.' Jean agreed as she settled Autumn into her bassinet, 'I think Richard is right, though, she would be good here. I've watched her with the other three girls, and she had been so supportive, so gentle and so amazingly wise.'

'Some of that is down to you, Jean.' Lucien pointed out. 'You have never judged her. You have supported her over your own son, and it must have hurt.'

'It did,' Jean admitted, with tears in her eyes, 'but, Lucien, he preyed on a child and I will be ashamed of what he did for the rest of my life.'

Lucien drew her close and kissed her. So sad and yet so optimistic, taking in her grandchild.

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They waited a week before putting Richard's proposal to Ruth. During that week the other girls she had befriended had come to see her and asked her what it was like, giving birth. She had been gentle with them, as Jean had with her and for the most part they were more prepared than most girls of their age. That's not to say they weren't scared, of course they were, but Ruth had done it so maybe so could they. She encouraged them in this, and after a week she even believed that one forgets the pain of childbirth, with time.

Richard himself put the proposal to her, while Jean and Lucien prepared to take their daughter home. She was astonished that someone would think enough of her to offer her a chance of an interesting life, to begin again. Her father would have preferred to marry her off to another farmer and raise the next generation, but this would be far more interesting. She accepted almost immediately even with the knowledge she would probably never see Autumn again, but at least she knew her baby would be loved and would grow up in a happy home.

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I may well take this to one more chapter. Perhaps Jack should know what his child is. That may well be up to you, dear readers.


	3. Home and friends

Jean and Lucien looked up and down Ballarat Station platform. They expected to see Charlie. Lucien had phoned him to ask him to collect the three of them when they got back from the clinic in Melbourne. Autumn was beginning to grizzle even though they had tried to time the journey in between feeds, but, typically, she was not going to adhere to their timetable!

'Let's head out to the front, he may be waiting there,' Lucien suggested, picking up their suitcases. Jean was carrying the baby and trying to soothe her.

Outside the station, they looked for a police car, but none could be seen. A car horn blared, and Lucien looked round. There was his Holden and a strangely familiar figure at the wheel. He touched Jean's arm, Autumn had been woken fully by the car horn and was demanding her bottle, and pointed to the car.

Jean smiled broadly in spite of being cross about the sudden noise, Mattie waved to them. Mattie was back in Ballarat! She got out of the car and ran to her dearest friends, her substitute parents, hugging Jean and flinging her arms round Lucien. She had the biggest smile on her open, lovely face.

'When did you get back?' Lucien asked, as he put the luggage in the boot of the car and Jean got into the back seat with her precious, screaming, bundle. Offering Autumn her finger wasn't doing the job, and happy as she was to see Mattie, she needed to get home and feed her daughter.

'Lucien...' Jean begged.

'Yesterday,' Mattie said as she started the car and headed home. 'I wrote but you must have gone to pick up Jean when the letter got to you. So I got Charlie to let me into the house. He gave me your car keys when you rang to say you needed picking up. My word, she's got a pair of lungs on her!'

'Yes she has,' agreed Jean, not adding 'just like her father!' She tried to ignore who Autumn's father was just for now, she'd try to reconcile herself to that fact one day, but not now, now she needed to concentrate on loving her daughter and giving her a good home.

Mattie swung the car into the drive and tooted the horn; well the baby was awake now so it didn't matter. Charlie opened the door and went to help them get out. Mattie went straight into the house with Jean and straight to the kitchen. She had taken the precaution of preparing a couple of bottles for Autumn and stored them in the fridge before she went to pick them up, so all she needed to do was put one in a jug of hot water and it would soon be ready. Not soon enough, but soon. Jean was grateful for her friend's foresight and it gave her time to look round the familiar room, so glad to be home. Mattie made tea while they waited for the bottle to come to the right temperature. No words were spoken, but an easy mood settled on them.

'Pass me that bottle, Mattie,' Jean pleaded, 'She's not going to wait any longer, and she'll just get colic if she doesn't get her milk!'

Mattie took the bottle out of the jug and tested the milk on her wrist. She passed the bottle to Jean who offered it to the baby. Silence, apart from the sound of sucking, fell. Now that Autumn was quiet Mattie held out her arms for the child, expertly taking her without disturbing the feeding frenzy, and Jean gratefully took a mouthful of tea. The trouble with bottle feeding was she didn't have a free hand to take a cup of tea at the same time. She'd fed her boys herself and became adept at feeding a baby and drinking a cup of tea without spilling it. She watched Mattie with her daughter and a brief thought went through her mind, 'it was about time Mattie thought about settling down', heavens she was thinking like Martin, that would never do. There was plenty of time, but when she did, Mattie would make a good mother. Jean hoped she'd make a better fist of it this time, and she sighed, almost imperceptibly, but enough for Mattie to notice.

Mattie looked up, 'Penny for them.' She said, softly. She had a good idea what Jean may be thinking of.

'Oh, it's nothing,' Jean smiled, wistfully, 'just hoping I make a better job of it this time round.'

'What? Motherhood?' Mattie questioned, 'You're a great mother, Autumn is a very lucky little girl.'

'Well I didn't do so well ...' Jean started to say,

'What? With Jack?' Mattie argued, 'he made his choices, maybe not the right ones, but it's not your fault. You were on your own, having to run the farm, keep two boys in check at a difficult time in their lives, heck, I'd have run for cover!'

Jean laughed at her, she always looked on the bright side of life, and if there wasn't one she shone a light with her optimism. And maybe she was right. She should stop worrying and get on with life, which looked like it might be rather good, after all!

'By the way, ' Mattie intruded on her thoughts, 'does Jack know that the baby's arrived?'

'Umm...I haven't told him,' she admitted, but then Charlie had wisely not given contact details to Jean, just in case she gave in to her maternal instincts and did something rash. 'Charlie might have, I haven't asked.'

'I'm sure he'd have asked you first,' Mattie handed Autumn back to her mother, 'he wouldn't do it without your say so.'

Jean pulled the baby to her shoulder and gently rubbed her back. Autumn obligingly burped and then snuggled into the gap between Jean's chin and chest and closed her eyes. Jean kissed the top of her hear and smiled, softly, loving that baby smell and softness of her skin. She really didn't want to think about it, just yet. She was sure he wouldn't really be bothered, after all he didn't even ask after Ruth when she came to live with her and Lucien.

'How does his money get to you?' Mattie was curious about the arrangement, she agreed with it but even so she thought Jean would have sent the information.

'His boss sends it, half of his wages to us, half to Jack.' Jean said, 'I don't actually know where he ended up, just that he's out of state and working. Charlie gets regular reports and so far all good, well mostly. He seems to have trouble getting up in the morning. I believe they tip him out of his bunk and throw cold water over him.' At that she grinned, Jack had always been a lie-a-bed, she often had to drag the covers off him to get him up in time for school. She hadn't ever resorted to a bucket of cold water, though, tempting though it may have been!

'Nothing like you, then?' Mattie giggled, Jean was notorious for her early mornings and hatred of being made to stay in bed if she was even the slightest bit under the weather. She wondered if marriage had changed her, but decided that was NOT a question she should ask.

'No, very much like his father. Christopher, for a farmer, was bad at getting up, I used to push him out of bed some mornings.' Jean admitted.

'You don't mind the odd lie in these days, though, wife.' Lucien had heard the last part of the conversation, and decided to chip in. Jean flushed a bright red and Mattie burst out laughing, she had a fair idea why Jean didn't always get up at the crack of dawn these days, and it was nothing to do with needing rest!

The closest thing to Jean's hand was Autumn's empty bottle so she threw it at her grinning husband as she got up to put the baby down in her bassinet. He caught it in his hand, expertly stopping it from hitting him in the face. As she passed him he grabbed her arm and pulled her into a deep kiss, which, true to form, she didn't resist, even if it was in front of Mattie.

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That evening Jean and Lucien sat together in the living room. Charlie and Mattie had gone to their rooms, Autumn was sleeping so they had some time to themselves, time, which for a while would be short until routines had been set in place.

'Do you want a message sent to Jack?' Lucien had heard more of her conversation with Mattie than she realised.

'I don't know.' She had to admit this bothered her. Should she let him wait, should she ever tell him he had a daughter, should she tell him but not let him see her? So many questions kept running through her mind they almost made her dizzy. If Autumn had been hers and Lucien's she'd have shouted it from the rooftops, phoned both her boys to tell them the wonderful news, but this was different. She had told Mattie when the whole story had begun but she hadn't told her son, Christopher. Christopher had no idea his brother had got a girl in trouble, either time, he had no idea his mother and new husband were going to raise the baby as their own, any of it. She hadn't known how to tell him, so she didn't. She was also worried about Christopher's reaction. Lucien's had been bad enough, when he'd used his fist on Jack, and hers, hers when she found out that Ruth was only fifteen at the time, she had surprised herself. She had trouble forgiving herself for slapping him. Lucien had been shocked, she knew, but he had told her she had been right, because he saw something flash across Jack's face at the time, that something being, 'I'm not getting away with it this time.'

'Tell you what, 'Lucien had an idea how to get round the dilemma, 'why don't we ask Charlie to get a message to the farmer who Jack works for, and leave it to him to see if he thinks Jack deserves to know. Or even if he asks if he's heard anything. That way the information is there for him, it's part of him taking responsibility for what he has done.'

'What if he never asks?' Jean looked saddened by this thought.

'If he never asks then he is the one making that decision, Jean, even he might wonder. Thoughtless he may be but I don't think even Jack is that far removed from reality.' Lucien kissed the end of her nose, his new favourite spot.

Jean thought for a few minutes. What Lucien had suggested meant they wouldn't be keeping it from him, all he had to do was ask the question. And she hoped he was right about Jack perhaps having a tiny bit of sense. She sighed her assent to his proposal, and decided she didn't want to think about it anymore. She had a better idea...

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Queensland:

The farmer opened the letter from Ballarat police. He knew it would be about Beazley, he expected it, having been told what Jack's transgression was. He admitted he was a good looking boy, but that was no reason to take advantage of innocent young girls. Beazley wasn't the first such lad he'd had come through his hands and no doubt wouldn't be the last. Shame really, he was sure he had more going for him than toiling away on a remote farm. He was well educated, well he appeared to be, but lazy and should have made more of his life. He read the short letter from Senior Sergeant Davies; a baby girl, adopted by the local police surgeon and his wife. Baby well and a good size. Baby's mother well, too. Information to be made available to Jack Beazley if he asked. So even that was up to the boy, whether he wanted to know or not. The local police surgeon Davies had mentioned, he knew, was Beazley's mother's second husband. Davies had told him they were good people.

The farmer looked across the paddock, Beazley was repairing fences, driving the stakes into the ground with a sledgehammer. He'd developed some impressive muscles in his time there but only used them for work. Just as well, the farmer thought, he'd be a formidable opponent in a fight!

A month later:

'Beazley,' a voice in the darkness of the bunkhouse, 'you awake?'

'Yeah, why?' Jack answered. The new lad was so young, he had a strange accent.

'What you here for? I mean what did you do?' The voice asked.

'Got a girl into trouble.' He answered. 'Where you from?' he asked.

'London, me ma and da moved to Australia last year.' The lad replied.

'Well,' thought Jack, that explains the accent. 'What've you done?'

'Nicked stuff.' came the answer. 'Da said we had to be careful with our money, so I nicked some veg from the market.'

'Should've run faster,' Jack advised.

'Yeah, well, I didn't.'

'Beaz?' the lad questioned, 'how d'ye get a girl into trouble?'

'God, how old are you?' Jack gasped, he didn't want to give the boy the talk Blake had given him, half a year ago, seemed like half a lifetime.

'Fourteen,' the lad admitted.

Jack sighed, he messed up his life, now this kid was going to do the same, maybe it was time to straighten himself out.

'Don't ask. It just means she had my baby, and I didn't take care of her.' That was one heck of an admission, even to himself.

'What did she have?'

'Eh?'

'Boy or girl?'

It was then that Jack realised he'd never asked the boss if he'd heard anything from Ballarat. Ruth must have had the kid by now.

'Dunno.' he whispered, thinking he'd better ask, it was only right.

The following morning, for once Jack was up in good time to work. He took the new lad, now known as London, out with him to repair the fences. He had to let him ride his horse with him, the poor lad had no idea how to ride a horse; but he was light and Jack's horse was strong so two bodies were no problem. They passed the time working and occasionally talking about how they had come to be at the farm. Both were aware they were a disappointment to their respective families, Jack even more so when he thought of his mother and Lucien. She had taken a position as a housekeeper after selling the family farm, had slaved away to provide for him and his brother and all he had done was get arrested for firearms offences and get two girls pregnant. Not a great advert for Victorian males. London was a child, doing what he thought was the best for his family, but taking food without paying was a crime, and he knew it, even before he had done it. He had never been a fast runner and this had been his downfall.

It took a week of being in London's company before Jack found the courage to ask the boss if he had heard from Ballarat. Did he know what had happened to the girl he had impregnated.

'I had a letter over a month ago,' the boss informed him, 'I was waiting for you to ask me if I had any news. The baby is a girl, in good health and so his her mother. I have been told the baby had been adopted by the police surgeon and his wife; I believe you know them.'

Jack looked at his feet, ashamed. London had made him see he was not a good person, but maybe he could redeem himself in some way.

'Thanks, boss, ' Jack mumbled, 'just wanted to know.' He turned and sloped out of the house.

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A year later:

'Autumn!' Jean called as her daughter walked unsteadily towards the surgery. Lucien was dealing with patients and didn't want a one year old interrupting him. The red haired child turned at the sound of her mother's voice and promptly sat down. Turning while walking was not easy, she had found!. Jean scooped her up in her arms and the child wrapped her arms round her mother's neck. Jean kissed her curls. They hadn't disappeared when the baby hair had fallen, just reappeared, long red ringlets that Jean loved to tie with ribbons. Talk in Ballarat was that Autumn was Lucien's child, but Jean had never shown any sign of pregnancy so they couldn't work out who the mother was. Was it Jean or had Lucien been unfaithful and Jean had taken his child anyway, being too old to conceive herself. Such gossip was hurtful to Jean and she longed to tell them that Autumn was actually her granddaughter, Jack's daughter by Ruth Wilson. Lucien dissuaded her. Let them talk, he had said, telling them that Jean's son was the father might cause even more gossip. And bring Ruth into the gossip chain. He was right, in time Autumn was accepted as their daughter.

A knock at the door caused her to turn round. She was sure all the patients for the day's surgery had arrived so who could it be? So with Autumn on her hip she went to answer the door.

It was just as well that Autumn had her arms firmly round Jean's neck when the door opened; Jack stood there, just had he had done over a year ago.

'Jack,' Jean gasped, clutching her daughter even tighter.

'Mum.'

She moved aside to let him in. They went to the kitchen.

'How are you?' Jean asked, noticing he had developed muscles. He looked healthy.

'Well, and you?' Jack noticed she was apprehensive, but underneath that she was happy.

'The same. Busy, as always, Autumn keeps me on my toes.' She indicated the baby.

'She...'

'Yes, Jack,' Jean nodded.

There was a silence.

'I'm sorry, mum,' his looked down at his hands, 'I know now I've been an idiot, I've let you down and I've left you holding the baby, literally.'

Jean found Autumn's curls suddenly very interesting. She was unsure about her son's new found interest in his daughter.

'Jean,' Lucien's voice called through the house.

She sighed, 'Kitchen,' she called, as she got up to put the kettle on. Lucien stopped short at the kitchen door,

'Jack!' Lucien was astounded, how had he had the temerity to come back.

Jack stood up straightened his shoulders, and met Lucien eye to eye.

'Sir,' he said, quietly, and held out his hand, 'I don't believe I congratulated you on your marriage to my mother, and I am sorry. I have let both of you down and it took at fourteen year old immigrant to teach me that.'

Lucien looked the young man straight on, and shook his hand, he couldn't find the right words to say so said nothing.

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Jean curled into Lucien, satisfied, fulfilled. She was loved, she had a beautiful, but slightly flawed, family, didn't everybody; and life couldn't be better.

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This is the last chapter of this story, I wanted to redeem Jack, even if 'good looks don't put food on the table!' Sometimes it's the children that wake us up to what is right.


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